From New York to the Lamest Place in the World
by Kisses Bitches
Summary: How do I even begin to explain Lucy Dunn? She's popular, she's pretty, she's head cheerleader, she's an AP student, she's the star of chorus, she's the drama club's favorite possession, she lives in New York. Except, she just moved to Indiana. And she has to get everything back in 4 months, everything and Evan Goldman. x collab w/ The Bitch Who Died x [evcy/goldunn] AU R
1. My Name is Lucy Dunn and —

**Prologue: My Name is Lucy Dunn and —**

If I could go erase one moment from my life, I know exactly what moment I would choose.

The very moment my dad kissed his twenty something secretary. The moment my life went to hell.

My name is Lucy Dunn, I live in New York, I'm an AP student, I have friends, I'm the star in chorus, I'm the drama club's favorite possession, I'm the head cheerleader, I'm popular, and I'm moving to Appleton, Indiana. Where I know no one, and no one knows me. A month before the start of 8th grade. And I turn 13 in December.

* * *

The worst part of your parents getting a divorce isn't the screaming, or the "darling, it's not your fault's," or any of that. It's the lawyers. They tell you to go to your room when it's about to stop being your room, they talk like freaking Mufasa, they glare at you like you're some little kid getting in the way while they negotiate how to screw up your life. Like. Hell.

I hate them. I hate them all.

I wish they could just suck it up and stay together. I wish Mom wasn't moving us to the freaking middle of nowhere.

It's one thing for your parents to get a divorce, it's one thing to move, it's one thing to start the 8th grade — but all of those at once? Forget it.

It's so freaking _selfish_ of them. What about me? How am I supposed to become the most popular girl in school again in 4 months? Do you know how long that took me? _Years_ of building up a reputation and social experience. I can't just recreate that in 4 months! And if I can't get enough people to my birthday party, I'm screwed for the rest of my crappy life in Indiana!

Sure, I can get a handful of the popular girls and a spot on the cheerleading squad and maybe even a boyfriend, but I won't be able to become the most popular girl in school again! That spot will be filled by now, and if that spot is filled, the most popular boy in school is taken. It's a rule, the 2 most popular people in school have to date.

That's. How. It. Works.

And if the most popular boy in school is taken, I can't get him without scheming. And scheming for him so early could get me labeled as a whore or a bitch or everything I can only afford to get labeled as when I'm popular!

This is giving me a headache.

Or maybe I just feel nauseous from the altitude.

Ugh, who cares?

* * *

"Sweetie, wake up, we're here," Mom shakes me awake.

I groan, sitting up in my seat. Good, my headache is long gone.

"C'mon, Lucy, we have to get off soon, Aunt Darlene is waiting," she whispers as I blink myself awake. Ugh, what's that _smell?_ Isn't first class supposed to be nice? Whatever.

Getting off the plane is hazy, it reeks of vomit and peanuts, and all I can hear is my mother promising living here will be just fine — I decide she's just experiencing anxiety from her antidepressants. Or maybe she's doped up on so many meds she's high as a kite. It doesn't matter, I can barely make out a third of her cracked up promises anyways.

Aunt Darlene has gotten fatter since we last saw her and it's all going to her thighs.

I almost laugh at the thought but shove it to some dark corner in my brain, not wanting to deal with it. Not now, not ever. I have to focus on this hellhole I'm in, I have to memorize the place. Which, I decide, won't be particularly difficult. The things that really stick are the Dairy Queen, a Walmart, and a rundown graveyard. Yippie.

We pull into a big house's driveway, my head still buzzing and them still chatting away.

I already know I'm going to hate this.

* * *

After everything is all settled in, I climb into my bed, not caring that it's still light out and not caring that I slept almost 2 hours on the plane ride. My head is alive with buzzing and numbers and rumors from my old school but my eyelids are heavy and the world is killing me to live in.

Ding dong!

The cliché of all clichés. The doorbell. Fantastic.

I can hear my aunt greeting whoever is there with enthusiasm that makes me want to drown her. And then I can hear her shouting for me in a singsong voice that makes my breakfast rise to my throat because there's no lunch to poor out of my mouth.

"Coming!" I shout, brushing out my hair because first impressions matter and we could've moved in next to someone popular. I check my makeup and soothe the crinkles in my outfit before sauntering downstairs like I don't hate whoever's disrupting my would be slumber.

"Hi, I'm Kendra, your neighbor," a pretty blonde girl smiles, reaching out a hand to shake.

"Lucy, but you already knew that," I say, shaking her hand.

"So, your aunt tells me you're from New York, that's cool," Kendra nods, walking with me to the living room.

"Yeah, I guess, I just hope my post as head cheerleader gets filled by Kelsey, girl deserves it," Kelsey was my best friend. We were inseparable, you know, until my parents split.

"You were head cheerleader? That's amazing, I've been trying to get the role and it just opened up because our head cheerleader moved to New Jersey after her parents split," she explains.

"Wait, _her_ parents split and she moves from here to New Jersey but _my_ parents split and I move from the greatest city in the world to _here?_ God, that's unfair," I complain.

"If it makes you feel any better, she got hit by a car," Kendra offers.

"Now _that_ is karma," I laugh, "how big a bitch was she?"

"The biggest, she made the nicest girl in school so unpopular she moved to Africa because she got partnered with Brett Sampson on a History project, and they weren't even dating, they never did The Tongue," oh, my God, I love this girl! I should take a page out of her book. I'll have to ask what "The Tongue" is later but I get the feeling I know.

"Seriously? How cute is this "Brett Sampson?"" I ask, sure to use sarcastic air quotes.

"He's _so_ cute — he's the quarterback, you know, but he's not even the most popular boy in school, no, that's Evan Goldman — " she sighs dreamily " — Evan is _dreamy,_ and he can _sing,_ he comes up with the best plans you know, and he's so _dreamy!_"

Evan Goldman. Evan Goldman. Evan Goldman.

The most popular boy in school.

"Is he taken?" I ask, casually.

"No, he and Charlotte broke up at the end of last year," she squeals, "I mean, I feel terrible because Charlotte and I are friends, but oh, my God!"

"_Really _now?" I ask, feeling a smile coming on.

Oh, this is _too_ good.

xoxo

The favorites be screwed,

and trade 'em for a review,

the follows can fall in a ditch,

they make us want to slap a bitch,

kisses odd bitches ㈍9

- Lucy & Ali

xoxo


	2. The Ticket to Everything

**Chapter** **1: The Ticket to Everything**

I fall asleep to the sound of a rusted ceiling fan and creaking wooden boards, my mind still buzzing with my conversation with Kendra. It's not really sleep though, it's an in-between. My brain shuts down but not a single dream is afloat.

It's not peaceful but I don't roll around in a fit to untangle from the blankets.

It's as much nothingness as the feelings boiling in me about their split.

And it's complete, and total _hell._

* * *

The first thought in my head when I way isn't about the suffocating heat from the blankets around me or the creaking upstairs, not even the horrible situation at hand. My first thought is of none other than Evan Goldman. The most popular boy in school. I don't even know him yet but Kendra has told me so, so much.

And I love every second of it.

He's smart — they call him the Brain, he's "hot enough to melt the north pole" (clearly _someone_ is going to fail geography seeing as the _south_ pole is colder), he's nice (and considerate and polite and all that crap), he's charming, he can _sing_ (apparently, he serenaded Charlotte, — who Kendra says I will _love_ — how _romantic_), he's awesome (Kendra told me he's gotten all the popular kids into R rated movies before with this _genius_ plan), he's tall (and I _know_ what comes with height, even if I've never seen one), he's funny, he's _single._

Well, not for long.

If I can just get him, I can get everything back. I just need to wrap him around my finger, get invited to his Bar Mitzvah, and get him to kiss me.

3 simple steps and I get everything back.

I push the blankets off carefully, not wanting them to pile onto the carpet. That would just be a pain to clean up later. And I don't need another headache, thank you very much. I do, however, need to brush my hair out.

The carpeting molds around my feet as I lazily saunter to the bathroom to do my morning routine. Something about my life has to have some normalcy.

I look too pale in the mirror, pasty. I hate it but I don't tan. At all. And maybe Evan likes tan girls. Crap, I have to find out what his past girlfriends look like. Looks like I know where I have to go after I'm ready.

* * *

Kendra opens the door with a smile. "Hey, Lucy!" She greets, giving me a hug. Nice girl, stupid though.

"Hey, Kendra," I smile, brushing my hair back with my fingers, "so, you know — well, obviously you know — how you were telling me about Charlotte yesterday? I think we should _all_ have a little get together at the Dairy Queen down the road or the mall across town."

"That sounds awesome, Lucy, I can text Charlotte about it, she loves going to the mall to look at cute guys in the food court," Kendra squeals, grabbing both my hands for a brief happy dance. Aw . . . If you ever tell _anyone_ I thought that, I will _ruin_ you.

"Sounds like a plan," I grin brightly, my handbag swaying with my hand motions, "and who knows, it might cheer her up a little about Evan."

"Hopefully; she's still kinda down about it even though it was a mutual breakup," Kendra says sympathetically. Wait, has _Kendra_ had a breakup recently? Hm, better find out.

"You sound like you've been there recently," I place a comforting hand on her shoulder, pouting slightly in an understanding way.

"I have, my boyfriend and I broke up in the middle of the school year because he liked our last head cheerleader," she sighs, bowing her head.

"Aw, I'm so sorry, Kendra. Tell ya what, when school starts, _I'll_ help _you_ get a new boyfriend but for now checking out cute guys in the food court will have to do," I tell her, genuinely feeling just a little sad for her. She seems so nice and friendly, I wonder who her last boyfriend was. I'll have to ask later.

"Really? You'd do that for me, Lucy?" She asks, hope brewing in her eyes.

"Of course, Kendra, we're friends after all," I inform her, "now, I believe it's time to text Charlotte?"

"Yeah, give me a second," she says, her voice dying down a little as she texts rapid fire with the girl in question.

Let's hope this goes well. Fingers crossed.

* * *

The decision is simple, Charlotte is tan but not overly so and, from what I've been told, Evan has liked pale girls before. That apparently had something to do with their breakup.

We're all laughing by the time Kendra's mom parks her car. Charlotte, as fate would have it, is a gossip, so, naturally, I'm filled in on every rumor and fling from 6th grade at this point. Yes, it's necessary to know all the gossip since the beginning of middle school. If I'm ever going to get a handle on it, I need to know the rumor patterns of the school.

You see, each school and each grade within the school has its own rumor pattern, some schools are big on who's dating who, others are all about what nasty things teachers may or may not have done. My last school was centered around exactly what I wanted people to focus on, whatever worked in my favor was what I fed them. If I (or one of my friends) was mad at someone, I made sure the whole school was buzzing about what nasty little secrets they have, or the ones I made up.

What?

I only kill when my pack needs to eat. And when I'm bored.

No rumors ruining people, no fun.

"You girls have fun and be safe, alright?" Kendra's mom tells us, giving her daughter a hug.

"We'll be fine, Mom," the blonde girl smiles. I feel a pang in my chest, I remember when my family was that stable. The divorce . . . There weren't any warnings, no signs to read. It just . . . Happened. One minute I could've sworn we were the perfect family, the next Dad was dumping us for his freaking secretary.

. . .

Whatever.

* * *

"So, the next year, Brett and Evan are _still_ in a fight, Brett basically tries to kill Evan who's like, "if you're gonna be like that, you can eat in the bathroom!" and you _know_ Brett thinks he's, like, a god or something — and he is _really_ hot, so, you know — so, anyways, he shoves Evan and they get in this _huge_ fight, meanwhile the teachers are God knows where and Molly is _filming_ the whole thing — it's got, like 80,000 hits on YouTube — then this crippled kid, Artie or something like that, shows up and gets hit in the face!" Charlotte exclaims while Kendra orders us all pizza.

"Wait, is the video called _Sampson vs. Goldman - Cafeteria Showdown_?" I ask.

"Oh, my God, yes!" She laughs.

"No way, Kelsey, my best friend back in New York, showed me that video last year!" I tell her, laughing at this point, "they seriously got in that fight because of a _rumor_ that Evan and Kendra were sneaking around?"

"I know, it's crazy, right? The rumor wasn't even true, it was just this bored loser hobbit's fault," she scoffs, twirling her hair.

"Ooh, cute guy, 6 o'clock," I whisper, pointing.

"Seriously? How cute — 1 to 10," she whispers back, leaning forward.

"100," I deadpan.

"_No__,_" she gasps, bouncing slightly, "does he look our age?"

"Yeah," I nod — oh, he's talking to a girl. Crap, I think he might be flirting with her. Whatever, it's now or never. "Okay, it's safe to look." She does, eagerly spinning around in her chair. But when she sees him, she freezes.

"Lucy," she whispers, "that's Evan."

"Oh, my God, I'm sorry, I didn't know," I apologize quickly, putting a comforting hand over hers.

"It's okay, you didn't mean to. Besides, it was a mutual breakup and it was months ago, if he's moved on, I will too," Charlotte nods, more like she's assuring herself than me.

I open my mouth to support her when someone shouts her name.

"Charlotte! Hey, I didn't know you were here," it's him. He's smiling and waving and coming over here, "hey, it's been a while." He gives her a fleeting hug, his hand positioning confirms that he's moved on.

"Hi, Evan," she smiles warmly like she wasn't just about to cry, "it's good to see you, Kendra's getting us all pizza, wanna join?"

"Sure, but, I don't think I've met _you_ before," he smiles ever so gently at me.

"You haven't. I just moved here yesterday, from New York," I tell him confidently. After all, this is a game I know how to play.

"From New York? Impressive, well, I'm Evan Goldman," he laughs slightly, holding out a hand to shake.

"I knew that, Charlotte's been filling me in on the ins and outs of Dan Quayle Junior High," I tell him, not yet taking his hand.

"Heh, I guess I should've figured she would. Well, hopefully she hasn't told you anything bad about me," he nervously touches the back of his neck.

"Not really, hm, I guess you want to know my name, right?" I cock my head like I don't already know the answer.

"A name would be nice," he shrugs.

"Lucy Dunn," I tell him, finally taking his hand to shake. I notice Charlotte's expression.

_Did you just flirt with my ex-boyfriend?_

_Don't be ridiculous, Charlotte, I would never flirt with your ex. But aren't you supposed to be moving on?_

_Well . . . That's not the point!_

_Look, I get it if you still like Evan, I can see why, but clearly he's moved on. We've gotta get _you_ a boyfriend. What do you say?_

_What? Get me a boyfriend . . . Yeah, yeah. You're right, I am supposed to moving on, I guess._

"Hey! I got the pizza, pepperoni just like we agreed," Kendra laughs, walking over to us, "oh, Evan's here?"

Charlotte sends her a telepathic message through facial expression, like the conversation we just had.

"Well, let's dig in," she smiles brightly.

Evan smiles at me as we all get a slice. I just love it when things work out like this.

xoxo

The favorites be screwed,

and trade 'em for a review,

the follows can fall in a ditch,

they make us want to slap a bitch,

kisses odd bitches ㈍9

- Lucy & Ali

xoxo


	3. Master Plan

xoxo

Oh, my God! I'm back! Sorry, I go to a private school on an academic scholarship and that's pretty hard to maintain and then there's the year round soccer so . . . Yeah. Not much free time. But, hey, I'm back now! I'll try to get a new chapter for "Kisses, My Bitches" up in a week-ish though.

xoxo

**Chapter 2: To Get What's Mine**

In a town like this, where everyone knows everyone, you have to be careful. People _can_ and _will_ start the _nastiest_ rumors. And people will hear, and talk, and judge. Because that's how places like this work. That's how junior high works. Everyone hates everyone. Especially girls. We usually hate each other. A lot.

And that's why I can't help but be suspicious of Charlotte throughout lunch.

I also can't help but notice how Evan is staring at me. Short, secret glances with exhilarated smiles. My lips tug upward slightly as I send him a coy glance. Flirty, but still passable as friendly.

Charlotte, surprisingly, doesn't glare or have a telepathic conversation with me.

Hm . . .

* * *

"Lucy, darling, wake up," Mom whispers, shaking me awake. Okay, Mother, how many times are you going to wake me up while I'm trying to enjoy myself?

"What? Why?" I grumble, snuggling into my blanket.

"It's your first day of school, Lucy. Remember? You told me to wake you early?" She says, rapid fire. God. Is she _already_ doped up on those prescription meds?

"At . . ." I grab my broken alarm clock, "5 am?" I snap.

"Yes, you said something about having to look perfect for a boy," she dismisses, waving her hand.

"I did?" I ask, annoyed, then it hits me — "Evan. Oh, my God, I did! Get out of my room!" I exclaim, "I have to get ready!" In my rush, I shove my mom out of my room and slam the door shut behind her, not caring if I wake up Aunt Darlene or my stupid twin brother (what? Did I not mention him? Well, he's an ass). Scurrying around my room, I grab my makeup and flop down in the chair in front of my vanity mirror, brushing my hair out.

I hate my hair right now. I hate it. It's messy and grossly puffy in all the wrong ways — it's not silky _at all._ I hiss out a swear, the plumbing here is bipolar in the morning so I can't take a shower to fix my hair. It's a good thing I took care of shaving (I know, gross but body hair doesn't disappear on its own and it looks barbaric if you leave it, plus your skin is really soft and — oh, my God, I'm off topic now) last night.

"Where'd I put my dry shampoo and conditioner?" I mutter, panicking as I look around. Wait — okay, thank God. Unruly hair would kill my chances with Evan who is my ticket to popularity. And it doesn't hurt that he's . . . Well, awesome.

Whatever.

I quickly lather my hair the dry shampoo, plotting out solutions to scenarios. Being prepared never killed anyone, did it? No? Thought so.

A slight smile tugs at my lips as I wipe the excess shampoo out, my hair is starting to look pretty okay. I mean, it's still very . . . Clichély (ignore that that isn't a word) bed head but, we're getting there. I just need to use the conditioner and brush it out again.

After maybe 5 minutes, I've finished taming my hair for now, I'll style it after I get my makeup on. Speaking of makeup, this'll take a damn long time. I guess that's the price I have to pay to look amazing. And with what I need to get, I have to look _beyond_ amazing. Which means no breakfast. Hot, popular boys don't go for fat girls.

. . .

And I'm getting fat.

* * *

I link arms with Kendra and Charlotte at the school entrance (myself in the center, of course), gossip pouring out of a certain brunette's mouth. Kendra and I are, once again, the perfect audience — gasping and giggling and oohing in all the right places because _God,_ is gossip at Dan Quayle Jr. High _good._

A few boys whistle as we walk by; Kendra is timid, blushing and looking flattered, Charlotte bats her eyelashes experimentally, her grip on my arm tightening (mentally, I pick out candidates for her future boyfriend), and I wink coyly with a teasing smile. Maybe girls will hate me but they'll want to _be_ me. And that will take care of half of the "girls want to be her, boys want to be with her" cliché I had in New York. Besides, if boys are whistling at me, then we've got it down.

"See any boys either of you want?" I ask them, keeping my voice low.

Just as Charlotte opens her mouth, a short boy grins at us, "hey, Kendra, Charlotte, you two are looking fine."

"Hi, Eddie!" Charlotte smiles, too wide to just be friends, not wide enough to hate him. Ooh . . .

"Hey," Kendra, blindly perky as ever, waves at him with a sincere smile.

"Whoa, the new girl is _hot,_ can I get a name to remember you by?" God, he's like a dog.

"Her name's Lucy," ooh, Charlotte has a little bite. I like that. You know, when it's not threatening my big plan.

"Well, Lucy, give me a call sometime, sweet stuff," he mimes a phone.

"Eddie, we've gotta go, Evan needs our help," another boy (who looks like a skater in those jeans) says, approaching the speed at which my doped up mother talks at.

"What? Seriously, Malcolm? Well, if the E man needs help," he exclaims, "I'll talk to you girls later, gotta jet."

I wait for him to round the corner before laughing, "_God,_ is he related to a _hobbit?_" Charlotte and Kendra crack up at this. Good, things are going good.

* * *

"Hey, Evan," I smile widely at lunch, hands falling to my hips, "what luck running into you while I look this _hot._"

He cracks a grin at the joke — it's an inside one. We were texting and the conversation turned to girls who aren't so subtle about liking guys. Obviously, he, as a boy, doesn't get that after awhile of "subtle" not working, we say, "subtlety be damned" and just flirt.

"I'd say lucky me but you _always _look that hot," he says, his hands in his pockets and a nervousness to his walk. Good. I like knowing I make boys nervous. Even if the boy is one of my new best friend candidates' ex.

It balances out because he's going to help me get _everything_ back. Even if he doesn't know it.

I giggle into my palm like I know I'm supposed to when a cute boy makes a joke. His smile relaxes a little. He takes a few step closer to me, fidgeting with his clothes. I tilt my head, interested. He nervously begins, "so, I was wondering — "

"Evan! Code calculator, Brett needs you for help with his homework!" Eddie. I. Hate. You. So, so much.

"Er, I'm really sorry, Lucy, I've gotta go. Duty calls," he sighs, forcing an apologetic smile. For a second, I think that maybe he's _also_ murdering Eddie in his mind.

"It's okay, I'll . . . Talk to you later," I trail off a little, staring into his big brown eyes. He really _is_ dreamy. I just wish I didn't have to set Kendra and Charlotte up with someone before I could date him.

Stupid girl code.

* * *

Kendra and Charlotte beckon me over to their table when I get there. I say "hi" to the girls (Molly and Cassie too, of course) and smile knowingly.

"You'll never guess what I heard," I singsong.

"What? Tell me," Charlotte is the first to respond, followed by murmurs of agreement.

"Well, if you insist," I tease, "someone likes you, he's cute but I _can't_ tell you who he is _yet._"

She gasps and pleads to know more. They _all_ plead to know more. Alas (oh, God, did I just say "alas?"), I have to spoon feed them right now, let everything settle.

I don't touch my lunch.

It's all part of the plan to get the throne in 4 months.

And being fat isn't in my plan.

xoxo

The favorites be screwed,

and trade 'em for a review,

the follows can fall in a ditch,

they make us want to slap a bitch,

kisses odd bitches ㈍9

- Lucy & Ali

xoxo


End file.
